So to reiterate what I wrote at the end of Chapter 3- this is the kiss scene and if the thought of Jean kissing one of her colleagues makes you want to gag, you should probably skip this chapter. While I do ship these characters on the show, to take the relationship any physically further than a drunken kiss would be out-of-character for both people involved. The kiss will however be alluded to in subsequent chapters.

Chapter Four- Sympathies Expressed

Several hours later, Chief Superintendent Jean Innocent sat at an empty table inside a small pub a few miles away from the police station. In her neat, clean suit jacket and matching skirt, she looked out of place among the rest of the patrons with their tousled hair and wrinkled clothes. There was a glass of gin in front of her, but she hadn't touched it. She had come here to clear her mind, not to lose it. Jean was still in shock over what happened today. She kept hoping to wake up and find it another nightmare.

Who on the earth would want to kill John? As far as Jean knew, he didn't have a single enemy. He got along well with his colleagues, his clients, his family, and the neighbours. And there was no way that he could've been involved in anything illegal or in an affair, because Jean, brilliant detective as she was, would have figured it out. The whole thing just didn't make any sense.

Her attention was diverted by an argument brewing between the bartender and a tall blond patron seated on one of the bar stools. The bartender seemed to be refusing to serve the man anymore drinks, while the patron was growing steadily angrier.

"Please, sir. Please just go."

"No, I've come to have a drink and I'm bloody well going to have one."

Jean surveyed the scene with new eyes. As slurred as the man's speech was, there was something undeniably familiar about his voice.

"Well, you've had your drink. Now go, you're disturbing the rest of my patrons."

"No," the man said defiantly. He turned his head, and Jean's worst suspicions were confirmed. The blond man was indeed Sergeant James Hathaway.

Jean decided to get over to Hathaway before the fight became physical. She moved a second too late. In a swift, bold movement, James Hathaway leaped over the bar and grabbed the bartender by the collar. He began shaking the man roughly and let out a stream of curse words. Eventually, the bartender released himself from Hathaway's grasp and threw a punch at the sergeant that James was only too happy to return. An enormous crowd gathered around the bar, and patrons were cheering, some taking Hathaway's side and others the bartender's. Jean tried to shout out to James, but the roar of the crowd was deafening. She looked for away around the bar, but the crowd was too tightly packed. It looked as though the only way to stop the fight was for Jean to crawl over the bar and physically separate the two men. If only she'd known not to wear high heels today!

Jean climbed up onto a bar stool, and hoisted herself onto the bar itself, careful to avoid knocking over any glasses. She carefully jumped down to the other side of the bar and grabbed James Hathaway by the hand, dragging the sergeant away from the bartender. She shook the blond man gently until he met her gaze. "James," the superintendent said carefully. "The man is right, you should go. I'll give you a lift home in my car; you're in no state to be driving yourself. I want you to go outside and wait by the door. I'll be out in a moment. Do you understand me?"

Hathaway nodded. Then, Jean turned to the crowd that was still gathered around the bar. She reached into her purse and withdrew her police badge, which she showed to the crowd. "This is police business. We would very much appreciate it if you would all return to your drinks and leave us in peace."

The crowd dispersed, and James walked around the bar to exit the pub. The chief superintendent meanwhile apologized profusely to the bartender, paid Hathaway's bill, and left a very generous tip. When she exited the pub, Jean saw Hathaway sitting on a bench not far from the door, resting his head in his hands. She walked over to and sat beside him.

"Are you ready to go now?" she asked.

"Yeah," James said, rising to his feet.

They walked over to the car. Jean slid into the driver's seat, fastened her seat belt and placed the key in the ignition as James sat down in the passenger's seat. Jean started the car and then turned to look at Hathaway who was still staring off into space. "James! Your seat belt."

"Oh, right." He fastened his seat belt as Jean drove away. They rode in silence for awhile before Hathaway spoke again, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "You shouldn't have intervened back there. I was handling it perfectly well on my own."

'Why am I not reassured?' Jean thought to herself. This would be the perfect time to lecture Hathaway about the expectations and responsibilities associated with being a police office, but inebriated as he was, how much of that lecture would Hathaway really remember in the morning?

James continued. "People won't... respect me if you go about fighting my battles for me."

"Because I'm a woman?" Jean snapped.

"Because I'm a grown man, and the last thing I need is you trying to mother me."

"You assume too much," Jean muttered under her breath. Then she spoke so James could hear her. "You shouldn't be 'fighting battles' anyway. You're a bloody police officer! You're supposed to be investigating other people's battles or preventing them from occurring in the first place!"

Another awkward silence overtook them for sometime. Finally, Jean broke it."I think I know why you're upset, James, and I don't blame you for being so. But I can't let you self-destruct before my eyes."

"You don't understand. You can't. It's your bloody fault she's gone anyway!"

"James, I don't know what you mean..."

"You sent her away! That's where she met him. I'd always hoped that she'd come back someday and things would go back to the way things were. But now, she's happy there."

Jean was bewildered. She scanned her brain, trying to remember anything that might correspond to Hathaway's story. Finally, something came to her.

The chief superintendent sat at her desk, surveying the girl in front of her. In truth, Fiona Mckendrick reminded Jean Innocent quite a bit of her younger self: bright, hardworking, responsible, ambitious. "You asked to see me, Fiona?"

"Yes, Chief Superintendent. It's about the promotion."

"If you have any doubts about your ability to deal with the workload..."

"Oh, it's not that. It's just... I've been seeing someone, and... I'm not sure if taking the promotion is the right idea."

Jean looked at her intently. " Do you love him?"

"I don't know. That's the whole problem. If I am in love with him and I take the promotion, I'll always regret it. But if he's not and I don't take the promotion, I'll always look back and resent myself."

Innocent thought for a moment. "Well, I guess the only thing that I can tell you is that if you feel in your heart, that this man is 'The One,' you should refuse the position. However, if even a small part of you doubts this, then you should go for it."

Fiona looked thoughtful and turned to go. "Thank you, ma'am. I'll think about what you've said."

"James, I'm sorry. When I said I understood, I only meant that I too lost someone that I loved recently." Hathaway merely sighed in response. "Look, I know it sounds cliché, but there are other fish in..."

"None like her."

"Well, that's true, but I'm sure that there are others just as wonderful." She paused. "Fiona wouldn't want to sit around mourning her loss. She'd want you to find someone else, to be happy."

James looked thoughtful at that. Jean pulled the car into Hathaway's driveway and parked the car. The two of them got out of the car and walked up to the door of Hathaway's flat in silence. When they reached it, James spoke.

"Listen, I'm sorry for what I said earlier. It's not your fault. Fiona made her own decision. I'm just bitter, I guess."

"I understand." She smiled wryly. "Dr Hobson might disagree, but I've always felt that the heart is the most fragile part of the body. It bruises far too easily and far too often." She paused, staring off into space. "After today, I know that it will be months, even years before I feel myself again."

James put an arm around her shoulder. "Anyway, thank you for talking to me about Fiona, now and earlier. I know that it hasn't been an easy day for you."

"You're right, it certainly hasn't. Oh, and you've just reminded me. Thankyou for sitting with me at the scene, after we found the body. It really meant a lot to me." She turned, and his arm fell off of her shoulder. She smiled at him. "It's good for us officers to stand together—to be there when we need each other," she said.

"I think we need each other now."

Without another word, Sergeant James Hathaway bent down and gently pressed his lips to Jean Innocent's, placing one arm on her shoulder and the other on her waist. At first, Innocent was far too shocked to do anything. Eventually, she came to her senses and pushed him away from her. She ran back to her car and turned to face Hathaway.

"I'm sorry, James. I can't be here for you now. At least, not in the way that you seem to want."

She entered her car and sped off, driving to Dr Hobson's house. In her telephone call with her immediate superior, it had been established that the chief superintendent could not stay at her own house. It was, after all, a crime scene. And even if that hadn't been the case, Jean would've felt uncomfortable staying there. When Innocent had brought that up to her colleagues, Laura Hobson had offered to share her own space with the superintendent. Jean had been a bit surprised at that; she'd never gotten the impression that she and the pathologist had gotten on at all. Hobson had explained that her own flat mate had gone to visit family for the next two weeks and that Jean was free to take her room. Jean suspected that Hobson's kindness was motivated more by pity than by any real desire for friendship, but that didn't make Jean any less grateful to the pathologist.

When Jean arrived, she parked the car, got out, and withdrew her suitcase from the trunk of her car. She'd packed at least a week's worth of toiletries and clothing, figuring that if the case was not solved by then, she could always go back to the house to exchange the clothing. Toting her bag behind her, Jean Innocent walked up to the door and knocked. A moment later, a pyjama-clad Dr Hobson came to the door, a dog-eared paperback in her hand. Jean recognized the book as an early work of one of England's best-selling mystery novelists.

'Why on earth is Hobson still reading detective stories when she works with the police?' Jean wondered. 'Hobson's whole career is bloody detective story after bloody detective story.' And if Jean Innocent had learned anything after all her time with the police, it was that nine times out of ten, truth really was stranger than fiction.

"You're back later than I expected," Hobson said.

"Yes, well. I ran into someone."

"Anyone I know?"

"Yes... actually it was Sergeant Hathaway."

"Oh?" Hobson raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Yes … he... er... expressed his sympathies." Jean said carefully.

"That was kind of him. He always was such a good lad."

"Yes, he always was."Based on the strange expression on Hobson's face, the chief superintendent wondered if the pathologist had heard the slight emphasis Jean had inadvertently placed on the word "was." Innocent quickly changed the subject."So, are you going to show me where I'm to be staying?"

Dr Hobson showed Jean to her room and then returned to her crime novel. The superintendent meanwhile changed into her nightgown and brushed her teeth. As she crawled into bed and drew the covers around her, Jean reflected that tomorrow was sure to be a better day. The chief constable had informed her that there was a senior officer already in Oxford on a pleasure trip who'd be happy to supervise the case in Jean's place. The sooner the investigation officially started, the sooner Jean would have the answers that she so desperately needed.

Unfortunately, she'd also have to go through the embarrassing task of lecturing Sgt Hathaway on proper police behaviour tomorrow as well. As she fell asleep, Jean's mind kept drifting back to one unsettling thought: that despite the complete and utter impropriety of the kiss and the fact that it had occurred at the worst possible time and place, the kiss itself really hadn't been quite as awful as it might have been.